Miranda Warning
by yllimilly
Summary: OLDFIC. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.


Miranda Warning

A YuGiOh! ficlet by Milly

Summary: You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law... AU, racism, Joey/Kaiba, and a ridiculously one-dimensional OC!

A/N Initially this was just a ficlet, but I was overwhelmed with plot bunnies and will be writing a full-fledged multi-chapter story for this. You can still enjoy this piece as a oneshot. Enjoy!

**ooooo ooo ooooo**

The black device hanging on the wall reeks of saliva. And Joey's not even touching it. He's standing five feet away from it - now only three, having just been shoved forward by the slightly overweight police officer.

"You got one phone call, chink. You don't wanna speak to me, fine. Now's your chance to speak with your own kind."

The 20 year old freezes. Tries to stay calm and to analyse the situation rationally.

There's no use talking about the details of his mixed heritage nor about his thoughts on Japan's policy on double citizenship to a so-called law officer who omits the Miranda Warning and who seems content with labelling Joey 'Chinese'.

In the few months that have passed since he left Japan, Joey met plenty of these idiots. Never mind the fact that he speaks English with his father's Californian accent or that he holds an American passport; because he looks different, he'll always be an outsider.

The smell of tobacco, cheap coffee and half digested biscuits'n'gravy attacks his senses, bringing him back to reality. He turns to policeman and and backs off a little in surprise. A fat finger is raised inches away from Joey's face. Mustache-clad lips he wished he never saw that closely open, releasing more drafts of horrenduous breath and a single word:

"One."

He pronounces it too clearly, as if he thought Joey didn't understand. He then points at the filthy phone ever so slowly, and then back at the 20 year old.

"One. Phone. Call."

That said, the man straightens up and proceeds to eye Joey up and down like he was a strange animal - an animal with bleached hair and a ragged jacket and jeans torn at places. Not what one expects from a recipient of the one time 'Kaiba Corp Overseas Scholarship'. But in this little redneck town, he is just another immigrant hoodlum who sure is more likely to steal jobs than a run down 1988 Chevy without getting caught.

"You've got to be kidding me." The whisper gets past Joey' teeth despite his efforts.

"So you do speak English. Now get talking."

But to whom?

Mrs Wheeler nee Kawai wouldn't give him time of the day even if he knew where she was; Wheeler Senior's in jail himself in an unknown coastal state; the gang leader made it clear that Joey couldn't count on them if he ever go caught. Which he did. And his (former) professors certainly wouldn't like to be associated with him after what he'd done to get expelled from the university.

The numbers, laid out in a perfect circle, are mocking him. This was supposed to be easy. Well this whole adventure _started out_ easy, with Kaiba basically throwing money at him in an attempt to buy Joey's... silence.

How can cars be so hard to break into in a remote town where the county jail has a fourty year old phone with a goddamn rotary dial?

Joey grimaces at the irony of the situation. The many layers of irony. He's theoretically allowed to remain silent. Yet he's being pressured, almost bullied into making this one phone call. Yet he actually doesn't have anyone to speak to.

Feeling the stare of the law enforcer burning on the back of his neck, he picks up the receiver, disgusted at the greasy feeling. He lazily places one finger into the lowest hole, the number 8. Brown eyes wander to the digit sitting at the opposite; the number 2.

He absentmindedly rotates the dial until his index reaches the finger stop. That's two digits. Joey stops dialing, half expecting to hear a the familiar recording: "We're sorry, the number you have dialed..."

But the patronizing voice of the other man makes itself heard instead. "You calling out to China or something?"

Joey has an euraka moment.

82.

No, that's not China.

That's the country code for Japan.

That means Yuugi. And Honda. His best friends who think he is in Chicago, knee deep in his finals at the moment. He can't have them know what mess he's gotten himself into. He doesn't want them to be disappoint them. There's someone in Domino, however, whose opinion matters very little. Someone whose mind he'd like to toy with a little more while he can.

Joey decides he's giving it a shot. Without thinking it over, he rotates a sequence of numbers he knows all too well. The call takes forever to connect.

Upon hearing the brisk and formal voicemail message of Kaiba's company cellphone, Joey's shoulders sag in relief. He won't have to converse with him. An agonizing beep resonates in his ear. He is now being recorded.

éééééé"Hey Kaiba. It's Katsuya." He managed to surprised himself, not having used his Japanese surname in a while. "I just wanted to let you know that... I'm doing well, erm, doing well in law school and doing well thanks to your money." The police officer listens with great care, convinced that he is hearing Chinese. But Joey isn't paying him attention.

"I'm... actually I'm on a field trip right now. Getting "hands-on experience" like you always said." He pauses, and just for the heck of it, blurts out akwardly: "Take care."

He hangs up, then wipes his hands on his oil stained pants. The fabric is dirtier, but it feels cleaner than the human filth on his palms. With newfound assurance, Joey turns to the man in uniform.

"I'm done."

The fatter man replies with a smirk.

"So you got lucky enough to speak to one of your dog eating fellas."

Joey's lips twist upwards, amused at the unintended implications of the statement.

"Yeah, he's one helluva dog eater, that's for sure."

The comeback predictably doesn't fail to have its effect on the officer. He brings himself down from the desk, motionning towards the hallway leading to where, Joey guesses, he will be spending the night.

"Better shut your damn mouth, kid. You know, in America, we got to give you something called the Miranda Rights."

And the man says the words as they echo in Joey's mind:

_You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you..._

**ooooo ooo ooooo**

Thanks for reading and reviewing! The sequel, Crime and Redemption, will be out soon. Stay tuned!  
-Milly


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